Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!
Replaceable?
Tobi had apparated them to what Harry guessed was the main entrance and Harry glanced around the tall-ceilinged room. It was dark wood and green, a common theme for the house he was noticing. "Master is being requesting you see him as soon as you be returning," Tobi informed him.
"Right, can you take me to him?" Harry asked kindly to the little elf.
"Yes, Master Death Master."
And so the winding hall maze ensued once more. It really was ridiculous how confusing this place was. Why did there have to be so many halls and rooms there was only one person living in it! Well...two now…
Finally, Tobi stopped in front of an impressively solid looking door with a silver handle. "This is being Masters study. Master is being having a lock on it in Masters language though."
"Right, thank you, Tobi." Tobi bowed and disappeared again. Alone, Harry frowned at the door. Apparently, the man wanted to talk to him but then hid away behind a door that only he could open? That didn't sound right. And knowing Voldemort the door would curse him or something if he tried to just open it. Would he get cursed if he just knocked? Harry wasn't keen to risk it. Should he shout? Wait...Masters language...Harry knew that Marvolo was an intelligent man and so it stood to reason that he knew multiple languages, but who was to say that others wouldn't also know that language? No, there was only one language that Harry was certain only Marvolo would think to use as he was the only one known to speak it. Well only him and Harry.
Staring at the silver handle Harry realized that it was textured like snakeskin. Trying to visualize a snake in his mind Harry stared intently at the handle. "Open." He tried and heard a click. Harry could have almost laughed at the simplicity of it. Cautiously, Harry reached out to grab the handle and twisted it. Nothing happened and so Harry continued into the study.
"Did you not consider knocking as an appropriate request for entry?" The smooth voice questioned him as soon as he finished shutting the study door behind him. Harry turned back to see Marvolo sitting behind a desk filled with papers, it all looked incredibly mundane. There was a sofa off to the side with a simple coffee table in front of it and there were bookshelves lining the walls except for a large window that spread across the wall directly to the left of Harry and opposite the side that the couch and coffee table sat. The window gave a view of some beautiful gardens.
"Wasn't sure if I'd get cursed for touching the door or not," Harry shrugged, inviting himself to take a seat on the couch, placing the trunk at his side delicately but not letting go of the handle.
"So you thought just breaking through the wards would be the better alternative?"
"Not my fault you chose such a simple password," Harry smirked.
"So it seems. That will be remedied, of course, this is my private study and I will not have you barging in at your leisure."
"No worries about that. I was told you requested to see me which is why I'm here, otherwise I'd be in my room or the library."
Red eyes flicked once again to the trunk and Harry tightened his grip on the handle reflexively. "I take it your venture to Gringotts was successful?"
"Yes, more than I'd expected," Harry mused before raising his right hand and showing the three ornate Lordship rings decorating his fingers. He was rather surprised that they didn't feel heavy or weigh his hand down, despite the warmth the metal gave off Harry could almost forget he was wearing them.
"You claimed your Lordship...three of them," Marvolo murmured, eyes widening slightly. "I wasn't aware you had claims to more than one." The man's eyes were distant and his tone hard, Harry guessed that some of the man's spies were going to be in pain later.
"Me neither. Didn't even know about the Potter one. But yeah, I'm now Lord Potter-Black-Peverell. My magical inheritance pretty much emancipated me."
"How fortunate," Marvolo commented with a smooth elegance that made Harry slightly envious.
"Yeah. So I got control of all the properties too. Sadly the Potter homes in Britain were destroyed," Harry continued with a glare that didn't seem to at all phase the man responsible. "There are some out of the country for vacation homes, same as the Blacks. Though I now own the Headquarters for the Order, so of course I had them all kicked out." Marvolo smirked and his eyes glinted but he didn't comment. "I'm not actually sure if there are any Peverell properties, we got distracted. But I'll check the account books. The goblins also mentioned that given my Lordships and my suffering that occurred in my own home, I can press charges against Dumbledore and his helpers."
"It is a good way to start your revenge, by dismantling his reputation."
"Yeah, I thought about that. But to do so I'd have to come out with being a Necromancer and I don't think I'm ready for the whole world to know yet."
Marvolo inclined his head in understanding. "Of course, my Death Eaters will be keeping silent on your inheritance as well." Harry just nodded. He felt incredibly stiff trying to remain cordial and subconsciously trying to match the grace and elegance that Marvolo exuded. "May I inquire about the trunk?"
"It contains all of the journals and documents that I could find in the Peverell vaults. However, Bloodtoe mentioned only a Necromancer could read them," Harry added when he saw the look of greed rising in those red orbs. The look was promptly extinguished at the mention of the requirements and Harry thought that if Marvolo was a lesser man he'd be pouting right now. "Was there anything else?"
Marvolo shook his head, still casting longing glances at the trunk. "No, however dinner will be at six and if you should feel hungry call for Tobi to bring you a late lunch."
Harry nodded, regripped the trunk handle, and swiftly left the office. Once far enough away, Harry let out a breath and felt the tension ease from his shoulders. "Tobi," he called. "Can you lead me to the library?" He asked once the elf appeared.
"Of course Master Death Master," the elf squeaked and guided Harry through the halls to the large library. Once there, Harry claimed the table and opened the trunk on it. Harry began pulling out the loose documents and tried to follow what was written but it was too stained and faded but he guessed by the scratched diagrams it was some complex theory regarding advanced Necromancy. Not at all ready for that, Harry put them to the side and pulled out the books. There turned out to be two types of books: personal journals numbered one through twenty and what looked like twelve guide books or textbooks, all handwritten.
Feeling out of his depth as he stared at the two stacks he had made, Harry tried to decide which one to start with. Glancing through the instructional books, Harry skimmed the titles since those were the least faded and easiest to read, and even then only a few of the titles were still legible: 'Inferi: Creation and Destruction', 'Deaths Creatures: Thestrals, Ghosts, Dementors, Lethifolds', 'The Art of Claiming a Life', 'The Art of Giving a Life', 'Steps for Proper Judgement and Burial', 'Communing with the Dead', 'Runes and Rituals'.
His heart thudded faster at reading the titles, they all sounded fascinating. Licking his lips, his fingers hovered over the leather-bound books before reminding himself that he needed to start at the beginning and he needed answers first. Turning to the stack of journals, he glanced at their covers but aside from the inscribed number on the spine there was no other markings. Cracking journal number sixteen to the inside cover, Harry saw what must have been a name in the top left-hand side but it was too faded to read properly. Glancing at the pages, Harry saw to his dismay that those words were also far too faded to read. He could identify a few letters but nothing else.
Slightly panicked, Harry looked into each of the journals and all showed the same result. The centuries shoved in a Gringotts vault had not helped the preservation of the ink. Feeling his mounting dismay, Harry checked the instructional books but the same thing. Aside from those few titles, nothing else could be identified.
Slumping over in his chair, he sighed. His gut was telling him that these journals would contain his answers. These were his ancestors, they would provide the answers but he couldn't read any of them! Growling in frustration, Harry pulled at his hair. He wished Hermione was here, she would know the spell to freshen the ink. But she wasn't. She and Ron and Ginny and the twins were still stuck under Dumbledore's thumb. He felt a twinge of guilt at realizing how worried they must all be about him, having not heard from him since yesterday morning when the twins pushed him through the wall.
Since he couldn't read the journals at the moment, he tried to remain productive to keep his temper in check and pulled some parchment towards him to begin writing out letters. It would give him a distraction for his rising temper. The letters were short and so didn't take long to write out. Finishing he realized that he still didn't have Hedwig and so couldn't mail the letters he had written. And on top of that, he didn't even know where they were now since they should have all been kicked out of Grimmauld...wait!
"Kreacher!" Harry called out into the empty library. Half a second later the decrepit elf was before him and already mumbling about his unworthiness. "Listen here, Kreacher," Harry said sternly. "I will not tolerate those insulting comments towards myself or my friends. Understand?"
The elfs' lips quivered as if itching to mutter something about Mudbloods and Blood Traitors. "Of course, Master," the elf finally sneered.
"Alright, Kreacher," Harry continued deciding to play on the elf's twisted values a bit. "Things have changed since you last saw me. I am now Lord Potter-Black-Peverell," he began holding up his right hand to flash the rings. The deranged elfs' eyes widened and it looked like his throat convulsed. "In addition, I've had my magical inheritance," Harry continued, pulling his robe down again. "I am now a Necromancer."
"Master Lord Black is a Death Master?" Kreacher questioned, the reverence in the tone sent unpleasant shivers down Harry's spine.
"Yes, I am. So like I said, things are changing. You are my elf and I will be trusting you with personal matters. Because of this, I forbid you any contact or communication of any kind with any other member of the Black Family, specifically Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. Do you understand?"
The elf nodded, strangely eager. "Master Lord Black will be bringing the Noble House of Black to its greatness. Kreacher is being honored to obey and serve."
Harry swallowed, a little uncomfortable. "Great, I'm glad we've come to this understanding. Dobby!" Dobby appeared looking surprisingly ashamed and fearful. "Dobby, this is Kreacher. Kreacher, Dobby. You two are my elves and I expect you to work together." The elves bobbed their heads and Dobby avoided his eyes. Harry frowned slightly. It was the most unDobbyish behavior he had ever witnessed. "Right," he continued. "So first things first. Kreacher, has the Order been removed yet?"
"Yes, Master Lord Black, the disgusting traitors and those unworthy to grace the Noble House of Black are being gone."
"Good. Dobby, how goes the search for my things?"
That seemed to be the poor elfs' tipping point because the tiny creature let out a wail and collapsed on the floor. "Dobby is being sorry Great Master Harry Potter! Dobby is being searching the muggle house and arrived just as the muggles be burning everything! Dobby is being able to save the Cloak and some of the Map, but Dobby is not being able to save the Great Master Harry Potter's trunk or broom or album." Dobby wept large fat tears that were forming a puddle on the library carpet. Pulling out the Invisibility Cloak and Map from somewhere, the elf handed them to Harry while continuing to berate himself. Harry felt the silky airiness of the Cloak and felt a sense of relief. But then he saw the Map, it was burnt along the edges and there were a few chunks missing. His heart clenched at the sight, and on top of that, his album and his Firebolt were ash now too. He wasn't overly concerned about his trunk. His heart ached the more he looked at the charred parchment which apparently unraveled the charms placed on it because the map was showing visibly now.
"It wasn't your fault Dobby," he whispered hoarsely, tightening his grip on his cloak and the ruined Map. The tiny elf looked up at him from his curled up ball on the floor and blinked up at him through watery tennis ball green eyes. "Thank you for saving my Cloak and Map. What about my wand and Hedwig?"
"The Great Master Harry Potters' birdie is being escaped during the fire. Dobby is being still searching for the Great Master Harry Potter's wand."
The relief at knowing Hedwig had escaped was intense and Harry felt lighter knowing his dear owl would be finding him soon because he didn't doubt her ability to track him down. "Alright," he cleared his throat. He had to focus. "Kreacher, I want you to help Dobby find my wand. Grimmauld is probably your best bet, especially knowing that they all got kicked out without warning. If it is not there, check the Burrow or Dumbledores' office and then all of the homes of the Order members. It's got to be somewhere. Also, I want you to get Grimmauld Place in tip-top shape. Make it a worthy home once again. I will be using it as a safe house for those still loyal to me. Understand?"
The two elves nodded and Harry thought he saw Kreachers' eyes gleam with pride at the thought of the Blacks' returning to their rightful place.
"And the last thing, I want you to deliver these letters. Make sure that you are not seen by anyone and that they are alone when you deliver them. Understand?"
"Yes, Master Lord Black." "Yes, Great Master Harry Potter."
"Great, here are the letters. Deliver them, find my wand and restore Grimmauld Place."
The elves accepted the letters, bowed and disappeared. Alone again, Harry sighed and hoped his wand was found and his friends were still with him and that Hedwig arrived soon. Harry had written longer letters to Neville and Luna to catch them up to speed on everything and hoped that by allying with Voldemort, however temporary, didn't push Neville's loyalties to far.
Glancing back at the burned Map and Cloak still in his hands, he felt a lump forming in his throat and turned to face the journals and wanted to scream as the frustration mounted higher once more, knowing the answers were within reach but being unable to read them.
Harry felt the hot flames of his frustration start to rise higher and mix with his heartache at losing the few precious possessions he had from his family. His hands felt shaky and he just wanted to scream. He was sure there was a spell to fix all of this. The spell might even be in this library but Harry didn't know how it was organized or where to even begin searching and he didn't want to come across the Dark Arts books that were no doubt on these shelves.
"Master Death Master!" Tobi squeaked, appearing beside him. Harry startled, realizing he had been clenching his jaw and fingering the foreign wand looking for a release for his pent up emotions.
"Yes, Tobi?" He asked after a few calming breaths.
"It is being dinner, Master Death Master."
"Right, can you lead me there and take this trunk up to my room?" Harry asked, standing and repacking the trunk once more.
"Yes, Master Death Master," Tobi said accepting the trunk and disappearing and reappearing within seconds. "Come, Master Death Master."
Again, Harry tried memorizing the way to the dining room but knew he would still need help for another day or two. Marvolo was already seated and waiting. Harry took his seat without a word and the silence continued as the food was brought out and their plates filled. It was pasta and it was delicious, Harry thought absently as he began to eat.
"So, how have your pursuits been going?" Marvolo questioned when they were alone once more.
Harry frowned, looking at the pasta as he twirled his fork in the red sauce, quickly losing his appetite. He knew Marvolo would know the spell he needed to freshen the ink to read the journals. But the thought of asking the man for help, again, just turned his stomach.
"Was there something wrong?" Marvolo pushed. "Due to our agreement, I am to help you learn your inheritance. So if there is something wrong, I need to be made aware to further assist you."
The tone was even and controlled but Harry knew that in addition to wanting to honor their agreement, Marvolo hated not knowing things. Hated knowing that there was information he was not privy to. Stonily, Harry lifted his gaze to meet the picturesque man across from him. He needed to learn, Harry reminded himself. It was becoming his mantra it seemed. So taking a breath and unclenching his jaw, he nodded.
"The ink in all of the books are very faded. So I'm not able to read them well. Do you know a spell to freshen the ink?"
"Oh yes, it is quite easy. I'll teach you after dinner." Harry sighed and nodded. Trying not to remain so sullen, he stabbed at the pasta and brought it to his mouth. They ate in silence for only a few more minutes before Marvolo spoke again. He was surprisingly chatty tonight, Harry mused. "Have you been able to retrieve any of your things?"
"Not all of them yet," he replied stiffly, feeling his earlier emotions starting to flare once again and trying very hard to not unleash his temper and ruin things.
"Only some of them?"
Grinding his teeth, Harry nodded. "My relatives were apparently burning everything when my elf arrived. My owl managed to escape but my school trunk, Firebolt and photo album were all destroyed and my wand is still missing."
"I see. Luckily it was all replaceable items."
Harry's head snapped up harshly to glare at the man across the table, who looked admittedly surprised by that reaction and the amount of fury building in Harry's eyes. "Replaceable?" he hissed. "Fucking replaceable!" His hands were shaking as he clenched them into tight fists. "My school shit sure it's replaceable. But my Firebolt was a gift from Sirius, who is now dead! It was my last connection to my Godfather. And my photo album was another gift, filled with pictures of my parents. Parents I don't remember! Parents that I only see when a Dementor gets too close and then I only get to see them being killed by YOU!" Harry screamed, not realizing he had stood at some point. "So don't fucking call that replaceable!" Not stopping to think but just knowing that he had to get out. Harry tore out of the room. He continued running through the halls, becoming more and more lost. "Tobi! Take me to a Dueling Room or somewhere I can destroy things," he shouted, his mind clouded with a red hazy fog. The elf just nodded, somehow guessing it best not to speak and lead Harry two halls over.
It was a Dueling Room. There were scores of dummies lining the walls. Shrugging out of his outer robes and rolling up his sleeves. Harry began firing spell after spell. Blasting curse after cutting curse, feeling his magic singing with the adrenaline coursing through him. He didn't even need to speak. Every time a dummy was destroyed it rebuilt itself providing never-ending targets. Harry lost himself in the moment. His frustration, his fury, his anger, his hurt, his confusion; all rushing out of him.
Two hours later, Harry fell to his knees. His limbs shaking from exhaustion, sweat dripping off of him like a river, and hot tears streaking his face. Panting, Harry touched his forehead to the cold floor, his forearms bracing him. He felt surprisingly empty in the afterglow of his release. His exhaustion was welcome as Harry felt his heartbeat slowing.
"Impressive." Harry jerked upright and held his wand out. "None of that now," Marvolo said with a dismissive wave to the wand. Harry lowered it but didn't relax. "So much raw power," the man whispered and Harry felt a shiver trickle down his spine but it wasn't out of fear. "It is no wonder you were prophesied to face me. Even with a wand that does not recognize you as a Master, you can do so much." Marvolo's velvet voice was closer to a purr and Harry swallowed thickly and stood.
"Why are you here?"
"Well this is my house," the man countered. "And I confess myself curious as to what you would do after storming out."
"Right, well we agreed not to harm each other and I wouldn't be able to keep it if I stayed."
"Rather mature of you," Marvolo stated, hands clasped behind him as he stepped closer. "How would you like me to teach you?"
Harry blinked, his brain was still slow from exhaustion. "What?"
"Teach you. Train you. Help you become one of the most feared and respected duellists of our time," his words were a whispered caress draped in silk and Harry shivered, they were less than a foot apart now. "I know you have the raw power, having witnessed it myself. You just need the finesse, the craft, to become truly great."
"Why?"
"Consider it another layer to the protection portion of the agreement."
Harry doubted that was really it but having the opportunity to learn how to really duel was hard to pass up. Especially learning how to duel from a Master. "But we aren't supposed to harm each other."
"It won't be with malicious intent, of course. Purely instructional, I believe our agreement will allow for that. Besides to start you will face dummies not actual people."
Harry hesitated and chewed his lip. This was all just temporary, this arrangement. So who was to deny him the opportunity to improve himself? It would be foolish of him really to decline when he could use the skill to protect others. "None of the Unforgivables or anything too Dark."
"Of course," Marvolo replied silkily and Harry could almost hear the 'not yet' as he looked into those glittering red eyes. Harry swallowed nervously. "Now, it had gotten quite late. So you go off to bed. I'll instruct you on the spell for ink in the morning."
The man was gone a moment later, disappearing in a swirl of cloaks out the door. "Tobi?" Harry called out wearily as he grabbed his outer robes. The elf appeared looking cautious. "I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier. I was angry and not in my right mind."
"Master Death Master is being too kind to Tobi," the elf quivered.
"Nonsense, I was wrong to speak like that. Please forgive me." Tobi seemed to be unable to speak and just nodded his head very fast. "Thank you. Now, could you lead me to my rooms?"
Climbing out of the shower, Harry toweled off and barely managed to pull on sleep pants before collapsing on his bed.